Skip to content
Morning glory with garlic
Featured recipe

Morning glory with garlic

Garlic stir-fried water spinach

Rau muống, water spinach or morning glory, is the everyday green of Vietnam, and a plate of it stir-fried with garlic sits on family tables everywhere, from Hanoi rice-shops to Saigon street stalls. Done well, the hollow stems stay crunchy and bright green and the leaves silky, with a strong hit of garlic. Look for it in Asian grocers as water spinach or ong choy. This version is seasoned with soy sauce instead of fish sauce. Chef's tip: blanch the greens for 30 seconds and plunge them into iced water, as Hanoi cooks do, then stir-fry over the highest heat for barely a minute; they stay vivid green and never go soggy.

Read more 0 views

What to eat today?

Around the world

Today's trip: Persian

A new country every day, from every cuisine on the site.

Persian

Nazkhatoon

Smoky aubergine with pomegranate 40 minMore from Persian (131) →

This week's collection

Kid-friendly dinners
578 recipes · a new collection every Monday

Latest recipes

GummaFried pies with lamb liver

Gumma are the hot, puffy fried pies sold from big pans on Tashkent street corners and in bazaars like Chorsu, wrapped in paper and eaten in the morning with tea. The classic filling is cheap and hearty: lamb or beef offal, usually liver, heart and lung, minced with plenty of onion and black pepper; potato gumma is the vegetarian sister. This version uses lamb's liver and heart. A common mistake is frying in oil that is not hot enough, which makes the dough greasy and heavy. Chef's tip: cook the filling fully before shaping, then fry the pies at 175 °C until puffed and golden; the dough cooks in minutes while the filling only needs warming. Offal should be cooked until no pink remains, 71 °C.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GushtabaMutton balls in yogurt gravy

No Kashmiri wedding feast ends without gushtaba. After hours of wazwan courses, the waza (master cook) brings out these large, pale balls of mutton pounded with fat until silky, swimming in a creamy yogurt gravy scented with fennel, dry ginger and cardamom, and its arrival tells guests the meal is over. Families of Kashmiri descent in Muzaffarabad, Mirpur and Rawalpindi still serve it at weddings and on special Fridays, with plain steamed rice. Good gushtaba is so smooth that it barely holds together on the spoon. Using lean meat is what lets people down: without about a quarter fat the balls turn grainy and hard. Chef's tip: traditionally the meat is pounded on a stone for an hour; at home, process it in short bursts with chilled fat and ice-cold water, stopping to scrape down, until it looks like a sticky, shiny paste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Shan pickled mustard greens

Jars of sour, olive-gold mustard greens sit on every noodle stall in Shan State, from Kengtung to the five-day markets around Inle Lake, and families keep a crock going through the cool season. The greens are wilted, rubbed with salt and packed under cloudy water saved from rinsing rice; its starch feeds the natural fermentation, and after a few days the leaves turn crunchy, tangy and pleasantly funky. A spoonful goes on top of Shan noodles, beside sticky rice, into soups, or stir-fried with garlic and chilli as a side dish. Leaves poking above the brine are the main thing that goes wrong, since that is where mould starts; keep everything pressed under the liquid. Chef's tip: use the cloudiest rice water from the first rinse, and add a spoon of cooked rice to get the souring going faster.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Almond tea

Despite the name, there's no tea in hang yan cha, and almonds play no part either: Hong Kong's version is ground from sweet apricot kernels, the 'southern almonds' sold loose in Chinese herbal shops. Old-style dessert shops in Yau Ma Tei and Sheung Wan ladle it hot from big pots after dinner, sometimes with a black sesame swirl, and grandmothers make it for coughs in the dry winter months. It is pale, creamy and smooth as single cream, with a perfumed, marzipan-like aroma and a gentle sweetness from rock sugar. A grainy texture comes from skipping the straining, so press the blended mixture through muslin. Chef's tip: stir constantly once it's on the heat; the rice starch catches on the bottom of the pan within seconds and gives the whole pot a scorched taste.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese pennywort salad

Myin khwa, 'horse's hoof', is the Burmese name for pennywort, after the shape of its round leaves, and Mandalay grandmothers swear by a plate of it to cool the body during the hot months before the monsoon. The fresh leaves are slightly bitter and grassy, a little like watercress, and they are tossed by hand with toasted chickpea flour, crushed peanuts, crunchy fried garlic and its oil, lime juice, tomato and sliced onion. The salad is served as a side to rich curries, where its clean sourness cuts through the oil. Wet leaves ruin it: the dressing slides off and turns watery, so dry them completely after washing. Chef's tip: look for pennywort sold as gotu kola at Asian and Sri Lankan grocers; young watercress makes a fair stand-in.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bayagyaw (split pea fritters)

Every Yangon tea shop worth its sweet milky tea keeps a tray of these by the counter from dawn, and hawkers sell them by the bag at bus stops. Soaked yellow split peas are ground until coarse, mixed with sliced onion, chilli and a spoon of rice flour, then dropped into hot oil as thin, ragged patties that fry up shatteringly crisp at the edges and nutty in the middle. People snap them into bowls of mohinga, crumble them over noodle and rice salads, or eat them plain with a sharp chilli-garlic vinegar. Blending the peas to a smooth paste is the trap: you lose the gritty texture that makes them crunch and the fritters turn dense. Chef's tip: soak the peas the night before, and fry a test fritter first; if it falls apart, stir in another spoon of rice flour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Singapore curry puff

Spiral curry puffs are a tea-time thing in Singapore, picked up warm in paper bags from Malay kueh stalls at Geylang Serai, from heritage bakeries in Tiong Bahru, or eaten at the 4 pm break with teh tarik. The pastry is the point: two doughs rolled together into a log, sliced, and rolled out so that the cut edge shows tight spirals that shatter into crisp layers when fried. Inside is a soft, peppery filling of potato and onion cooked with curry powder and curry leaves. Shops also sell versions with chicken and a wedge of hard-boiled egg; this one keeps to potato and uses vegetable shortening so the pastry stays dairy-free. The usual mistake is frying in oil that is too hot, which browns the outside while the inner layers stay doughy; a steady medium heat lets the spirals open. Chef's tip: let the filling cool completely and keep it fairly dry, or steam from the potato will burst the seams in the oil.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed custard buns (lau sa bao)

Tear one open at a Hong Kong yum cha table and a stream of golden, buttery custard runs out, which is exactly why the name means 'flowing sand'. The filling is sweet and salty at once, grainy with mashed salted duck egg yolk and rich with butter and milk powder, wrapped in a snow-white, cotton-soft bun. Teahouses from Central to Mong Kok bring them out in bamboo baskets of three, usually near the end of the meal with a pot of pu'er or chrysanthemum tea. Most failures happen when the filling goes into the dough soft: it smears, leaks through the seams and never turns runny inside. Chef's tip: freeze the filling balls until rock hard before wrapping, then serve the buns within a few minutes of steaming, while the butter is still liquid.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

African chicken (Macanese galinha africana)

Macau restaurants have served galinha africana since the 1940s, and the story most often told is that a hotel chef in the city created it from spices that Portuguese sailors brought back from Mozambique and Angola. Today it is a signature at Macanese and Portuguese restaurants from Taipa village to Coloane, eaten at long weekend lunches with rice or crusty bread. Chicken pieces are marinated, grilled until charred, then baked under a thick, brick-coloured sauce of ground peanuts, coconut milk, chilli, paprika, garlic and onion that is rich, nutty and quietly fiery. It is often made with a pale, timid sauce; cook the onion, garlic and paprika slowly until really deep red before the coconut goes in. Chef's tip: marinate the chicken overnight in the fridge so the garlic and chilli reach the bone.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Red bean soup

Hong Kong Cantonese restaurants often send out a small bowl of hung dau sa on the house at the end of a banquet dinner, and dessert shops in Mong Kok serve it hot in winter and chilled with ice in summer. Long simmering breaks the adzuki beans down into a thick, velvety soup, part smooth and part whole beans, scented with the faintly bitter citrus of aged tangerine peel and sweetened with clean-tasting rock sugar. Some add a spoonful of coconut milk, lotus seeds or little glutinous rice balls. Adding the sugar too early is the common misstep, because it keeps the bean skins tough so they never collapse. Chef's tip: soak the beans, then freeze them in their soaking water for a few hours; the ice crystals crack the skins and halve the simmering time.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Al yakhniBottle gourd in yogurt gravy

Yakhni in Kashmir means a gravy built on yogurt rather than tomato, and al yakhni, made with bottle gourd, is the version cooked in Muzaffarabad and the Neelum valley when the vines are heavy in late summer. The pale, delicately sour sauce is flavoured with ground fennel, dry ginger, cloves and cardamom, never chilli powder, and finished with a crumble of dried mint, so it tastes cool and aromatic rather than hot. It is eaten with a mound of plain rice, often alongside a red, chilli-hot dish so the two balance each other. Yogurt that splits into grainy curds is the trap: it happens when cold yogurt meets hot oil or when the pot is left alone before it boils. Chef's tip: whisk the yogurt with the spices and keep stirring in one direction over a medium heat until it comes to a full boil; after that it will not curdle.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GuilinggaoBittersweet herbal jelly

Herbal tea shops along Hong Kong's busy streets sell black, glossy bowls of guilinggao as a cooling tonic in the humid months, and families keep a few cups in the fridge to eat as an afternoon snack. The jelly is firm yet smooth, deep and woody, and properly bitter, so it's eaten with a generous pour of syrup, or honey for those who aren't vegan, and sometimes a splash of coconut milk. The original is made by boiling turtle plastron with herbs for hours; the commercially sold herbal jelly powder used here is plant-based, so this is the vegetarian version. Lumps are the usual setback, which happen when the powder is added straight to hot water. Chef's tip: whisk the powder into cold water first, then pour it into the boiling water and keep stirring until it turns glossy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ginger scallion sauce

Every Hong Kong siu mei shop keeps a tub of this pale green relish beside the chopping block, spooned next to white-cut poached chicken over rice or tossed through plain lo mein at late-night dai pai dong stalls. Smoking-hot oil is poured over raw ginger and spring onion, and the sizzle softens their bite into a sweet, salty, fragrant sauce with a gentle heat from the ginger. It is just as good with steamed tofu, plain congee, poached fish or a bowl of rice on its own. Many home cooks blitz everything in a food processor, which bruises the spring onions into a watery paste; chop them by hand instead. Chef's tip: pour the oil while it is properly hot, shimmering and just starting to smoke, so you hear a loud crackle; lukewarm oil leaves the sauce raw and greasy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sesame balls (jin deui)

No Hong Kong Lunar New Year feels complete without a plate of jin deui, though dim sum restaurants serve these golden globes every day of the year with morning tea. Each one is a thin, crackly shell of fried glutinous rice dough wrapped in toasted sesame seeds, hollow and chewy inside around a spoonful of red bean or lotus seed paste. They are best eaten within minutes of frying, alongside a pot of tea, when the shell still shatters and the seeds smell nutty. Dropping the balls into very hot oil is the classic error: the seeds scorch before the dough expands, and the balls can burst. Chef's tip: start them in moderately hot oil and keep gently pressing them against the side of the pan with a slotted spoon, which makes them swell and turn hollow.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

TashmijabiMashed potatoes with stretchy cheese

Potatoes grow well in the cold valleys of Svaneti, and tashmijabi is how families around Mestia turn them into a feast dish: they are mashed hot, then beaten with handfuls of young sulguni until the purée becomes glossy and stretches from the spoon in long strands. It is served with grilled meat, kubdari or simply with pickles and Svan salt. A common mistake is letting the potatoes cool before adding the cheese; they must be piping hot for the cheese to melt and stretch. Chef's tip: keep the pan on a low heat while you beat, and use a firm wooden spoon. Most sulguni uses animal rennet; choose a vegetarian one or use mozzarella.

by KrazyBadal 1 views

Water chestnut cake

Dim sum halls across Hong Kong lay out amber squares of water chestnut cake on small plates, and every Lunar New Year home kitchens steam a tray to give away to visitors. Set from water chestnut starch and brown slab sugar, the cake is translucent and gently chewy, flecked with pieces of fresh water chestnut that stay crisp and juicy. It is eaten cold and wobbly in summer, or sliced and pan-fried until the outside forms a caramel crust with a soft centre, with a cup of jasmine or oolong tea. A frequent problem is a lumpy, cloudy cake, which comes from pouring the hot syrup into the starch all at once without stirring. Chef's tip: let the cake set completely, ideally overnight in the fridge, before slicing with a knife dipped in water.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Siu yuk (Cantonese crispy roast pork belly)

Hanging in the window of every Hong Kong siu mei shop beside the char siu and roast goose, siu yuk is a slab of pork belly whose skin has been roasted into a glassy, bubbled crackling that crunches loudly over juicy, five-spice-seasoned layers of meat and fat. Shops chop it into cubes for rice boxes at lunch, and whole slabs are carried to temples and family altars at Ching Ming and on festival days. Serve it with English-style mustard and a dish of sugar for dipping, plus rice and greens. The usual error is a damp skin: any moisture left on it steams instead of crackles, so the belly must dry uncovered in the fridge overnight. Chef's tip: prick the skin all over with a sharp skewer until it looks like sandpaper; those tiny holes are where the blisters start.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GubadiaLayered rice and curd pie

Weddings, Eid and the arrival of honoured guests in Tatarstan call for gubadia, a high round pie that is cut at the table like a cake and served with tea. Inside sit neat layers of buttery rice, kort – Tatar curd cooked down until rosy and fudge-sweet – raisins and chopped hard-boiled egg, under a domed lid of soft yeast dough. Many families add a layer of minced meat with onion; this is the meat-free version, as many sweet tea-table gubadias are. Kort is hard to buy outside the region, so you make it here from tvorog (check the label if you need it rennet-free). Where most people go wrong is a dry pie: every layer needs its share of melted butter. Chef's tip: let the baked pie stand for twenty minutes before cutting so the layers settle and come away in clean wedges.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Aab goshtMutton in spiced milk

Pale, gentle and fragrant with green cardamom, aab gosht is the Kashmiri kitchen's answer to anyone who thinks the cuisine is all chilli. Mutton on the bone is first boiled with whole spices, then finished in reduced milk with fennel and dry ginger until the sauce turns ivory and thick, almost like a savoury kheer. It is a wazwan dish and a family favourite for Sunday lunch among Kashmiri households in Muzaffarabad and Lahore, eaten over plain rice with a sharp green chutney on the side for contrast. Boiling the milk hard is what ruins it, since it catches on the base and leaves a scorched taste through the whole pot. Chef's tip: reduce the milk in a separate wide pan while the meat cooks, then combine them; it thickens faster and is far less likely to burn.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tainan beef soup

Before dawn in Tainan, workers and night owls fill steamy shops near the slaughterhouse districts for bowls of fresh local beef sliced paper-thin and blanched by a ladle of boiling broth, eaten with rice and a saucer of soy and ginger as a sunrise breakfast. The meat is tender and rosy, the broth clean, sweet and beefy. Traditionally the slices are barely cooked; this recipe gives a safer 30-second dip in simmering broth and a fully cooked option. The pink version is not for pregnant women, young children or anyone with a weakened immune system. People often cut the beef too thick, so it toughens before it cooks through; firm it in the freezer and slice it as thin as you can. Chef's tip: bring the broth to a hard, rolling boil right before every ladle; a broth that has dropped off the boil never cooks the beef evenly.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mango pudding

Wobbling out of fish-shaped moulds at the end of a Hong Kong dim sum lunch, mango pudding is just as popular in small cups from dessert chains, which sell it through the sticky summer months when Philippine and Thai mangoes flood the markets. It's smooth, creamy and full of fruit, with pieces of fresh mango through it and a drizzle of cold evaporated milk on top. Restaurants usually set it with gelatine; this version uses agar, which keeps it vegetarian and sets slightly firmer and cleaner. The problem with agar is impatience: it begins to set below about 40 °C, so cold purée added too slowly turns into lumpy strands. Chef's tip: warm the mango purée before you mix it in, then whisk briskly and pour into the moulds right away.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Aargauer RüeblitorteCarrot and almond cake

Rüeblitorte is the carrot cake of the canton of Aargau, between Zurich and Basel, where carrots grow well in the flat farmland: a moist, flourless cake of grated carrot and ground almonds lifted with whisked egg whites, glazed with a thin lemon or kirsch icing and decorated with little marzipan carrots. It is the traditional Swiss birthday cake for children and appears at Easter. A common mistake is skipping the separate whisking of the whites, which makes it heavy. Chef's tip: grate the carrots finely and squeeze out a little juice, so the cake is moist but not soggy. This version uses lemon icing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AasmiFried rice flour nests with syrup

Aasmi is the most delicate sweet on the Sinhala New Year table, a crisp, cream-coloured nest of tangled rice threads drizzled with pink syrup, and making it is a skill that village women in the Kandy and Kurunegala districts are rightly proud of. The batter gets its unique, almost glassy crispness from the slippery sap of davul kurundu leaves, a wild relative of laurel sometimes sold dried or frozen in Sri Lankan shops, which binds the rice flour and coconut milk. It is poured in a fine stream into hot oil to form a lace, folded while still soft and fried until crisp but still pale, then decorated with lines of thick sugar syrup. If you cannot find the leaves, a little tapioca starch helps the batter hold, but the lace will be softer. The usual error is frying until golden: aasmi should stay pale cream, so keep the oil moderate. Chef's tip: test the batter with one thread first; it should fall in a smooth, unbroken stream.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ginger milk curd

Born in the Pearl River Delta town of Shawan in Panyu, Guangdong, ginger milk curd crossed the border to become a favourite of Hong Kong dessert parlours in Jordan and Causeway Bay, ordered hot on a winter night. There's no setting agent: an enzyme in fresh ginger juice curdles hot milk within minutes into a trembling, spoonable custard that's sweet, creamy and warming, with a peppery ginger kick. It is eaten straight from the bowl while still warm, with nothing alongside. Long-life UHT milk is the classic mistake, since its proteins have been changed by the high heat and it simply won't set; use fresh pasteurised whole cow's milk. Chef's tip: use mature, fibrous ginger rather than young pink-tipped ginger, and heat the milk to 70–75 °C, measured with a thermometer.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Black sesame soup

Steaming bowls of inky ji ma wu are a staple of Hong Kong dessert shops on cool evenings, eaten after dinner or as a late-night snack on the way home. The soup is thick enough to coat a spoon, nutty and roasted with a faint bitterness that balances the rock sugar, and so smooth it feels like warm velvet. It's often paired half-and-half in one bowl with almond tea or walnut soup, or served with sweet glutinous rice balls. Over-toasting the sesame is the mistake to avoid; once the seeds scorch, the whole pot tastes acrid. Chef's tip: blend the toasted seeds with water for a full two minutes, until no grit is left between your fingers, before it goes into the pan.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AboloSteamed corn and rice bread

Along the lagoon towns of Keta and Anloga, women carry trays of abolo to the lorry parks: pale, spongy little cakes of fermented corn and rice dough, sweetened a little and steamed until springy. They taste gently sour and sweet, a bit like a steamed bun, and are traditionally eaten with fried fish and shito or a raw pepper sauce; with fresh pepper sauce and avocado they make a meat-free meal. The batter needs about an hour to rise, which is counted in the timings below. Chef's tip: cook a small part of the corn dough into a thick porridge first and mix it back in; this is what gives abolo its soft, bouncy crumb, and skipping it, the common mistake, gives dense, heavy cakes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Abrisham kebabEgg thread rolls in syrup

Despite the name there is no meat in abrisham kebab, the silk kebab: it is a show-off Kabul sweet made from nothing more than beaten egg drizzled in fine threads over hot oil until it sets into a lacy golden net, which is rolled up like a kebab on a skewer, dipped in syrup and dusted with ground pistachios. It is made for weddings, engagements and Eid, and the skill is in the wrist, so many families leave it to one aunt who has the knack. The texture is unusual and delightful, soft and springy, slightly chewy and soaked with cardamom-scented syrup. Pouring the egg too thickly gives you an omelette rather than silk; let it fall from your fingers in thin streams and keep moving. Chef's tip: strain the eggs first, as removing the stringy white makes the threads much finer and more even.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Chicken fricotChicken stew with dumplings

Fricot is the everyday stew of Acadian kitchens in New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island and Nova Scotia, and on Chéticamp it is still what grandmothers serve when the family comes home. Chicken simmers with potatoes, onion and plenty of summer savory, and fluffy dumplings called pâte steam on top at the end. It is simple, comforting food for cold evenings. A common mistake is a stew that is boiling hard when the dumplings go in, which breaks them up; keep it at a lively simmer. Chef's tip: summer savory is the defining herb; use thyme only if you really can't find it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Guineítos en escabechePickled green bananas

Every Puerto Rican Christmas table and roadside lechonera on the Ruta del Lechón in Guavate seems to have a bowl of these: green bananas boiled, sliced into thick coins and left to steep in a garlicky olive-oil and vinegar marinade with soft onions, bay and green olives. They are sharp, silky and filling, and taste even better on the second day, so they are made in big batches for parties. The common mistake is boiling the bananas until mushy; they should be tender but still hold their coin shape. Peel them with oiled hands or gloves, because the sap stains. Chef's tip: pour the marinade over the bananas while both are still warm, so the starch soaks up the flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Milkfish belly congee

Tainan breakfast stalls open before six for this, ladling it into bowls beside plates of fried dough sticks and braised fish skin. It is not the thick Cantonese kind: cooked rice is simmered briefly in a light, ginger-scented broth, so the grains stay separate, and slices of rich, boneless milkfish belly are poached in it until just set, then showered with celery, fried shallots and white pepper. Milkfish is farmed in the ponds around Tainan; look for boneless frozen belly in Asian supermarkets, or use sea bass belly. The error most cooks make is boiling the belly hard, which breaks the soft fat and clouds the broth. Chef's tip: lower the slices into the pot skin-side down and keep the liquid just shivering; the belly firms gently and keeps its sweet, silky layer of fat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Beef brisket noodles

Queues form outside the brisket shops of Central and Sham Shui Po at lunchtime for a bowl of ngau naam min: wobbly chunks of beef brisket, braised for hours with chu hou paste, star anise, cinnamon and dried tangerine peel until the fat and sinew melt, set over springy egg noodles in a separate, clear, peppery broth with daikon. The braise is dark, sticky and aromatic, the broth light and clean, and you dip between them. A slosh of Shaoxing rice wine goes in the braise; an alcohol-free swap is in the ingredient list. Many home cooks cut the brisket before cooking into small cubes, which then shrink and dry out; braise it in big pieces and cut it afterwards. Chef's tip: the braise is better the next day, so make it ahead, chill it and lift off the fat before reheating.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Steamed egg with minced pork

Hong Kong grandmothers make this on busy weeknights, and it is one of the first dishes children there learn to love: a trembling, glass-smooth egg custard with a layer of soy-seasoned minced pork underneath, served in its dish with a drizzle of soy and sesame oil and a bowl of white rice. It costs little, cooks in minutes and tastes of comfort. Getting the texture right is all about gentle heat. The pitfall nearly everyone hits is steaming on full blast with no lid on the dish, which gives a pitted, spongy surface; cover the bowl and steam on a medium heat instead. Chef's tip: use warm stock or water at 1½ times the volume of the beaten eggs, and strain the mixture through a sieve to remove the bubbles.

by KrazyBadal 1 views

Soy sauce fried noodles

Order this at a Hong Kong cha chaan teng or a dim sum breakfast and it lands on the table glossy, mahogany brown and smelling of the wok, a plate of nothing more than noodles, soy sauce, bean sprouts and spring onions. Thin egg noodles turn springy and slightly crisp at the edges, coated in a sweet-salty soy glaze, while the sprouts stay crunchy. Locals eat it for breakfast with milk tea, or share it at yum cha next to steamed dumplings, often with a dab of chilli oil. Wet noodles are the enemy here: if they go into the wok damp, they steam, clump and turn soggy instead of frying. Chef's tip: toss the noodles with chopsticks or tongs rather than a spatula, lifting and shaking them through the sauce, so the strands stay long and separate.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

MiondoSoured cassava sticks

Douala's Duala families wrap their cassava dough into slim sticks no thicker than a finger, and bundles of miondo tied with string are stacked at every market from Akwa to New Bell. The roots are soaked for several days until they soften and sour, then ground smooth, drained, rolled, wrapped in leaves and boiled until firm and slightly translucent. The result is chewy, gently tangy and neutral enough to soak up ndolé, grilled fish or a fiery pepper sauce, and peeling back the leaf is part of the pleasure. Plan ahead: the soaking takes 3–4 days and the draining a few hours more, though the hands-on work is about an hour. Chef's tip: roll the sticks no thicker than your little finger so they cook through evenly; fat ones stay pasty in the middle.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Achar goshtPickle-spiced mutton curry

Sour, hot and pungent, achar gosht borrows its whole flavour from a jar of pickle: fennel, nigella, fenugreek, mustard seed and cumin fried in mustard oil, with lemon and long green chillies stuffed with the same spices. It belongs to the Urdu-speaking kitchens of Karachi and Hyderabad, where it is made for dinner guests and shared at office lunches, and it is eaten with naan or tandoori roti, never with a delicate pulao. The gravy is thick and clings to the meat, glistening with oil. The step people rush is roasting the pickling spices; they must be toasted and coarsely crushed, not used whole, or the curry tastes raw and seedy. Chef's tip: mustard oil gives the true pickle tang; heat it until it smokes, then let it cool for a minute before adding anything, so it loses its harsh edge.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mbongo tchobiFish in black spice sauce

The Bassa people of the Littoral, between Douala and Édéa, are famous for mbongo tchobi, fish cooked in a startling jet-black sauce. The colour comes from mbongo, the pods of a wild plant in the ginger family, charred over a flame until black and ground with onion, garlic, ginger and njansang; the taste is smoky, peppery and deeply aromatic rather than burnt. Freshwater fish such as carp or tilapia is traditional, simmered gently in the sauce for family gatherings and in Douala restaurants, with boiled plantain, miondo or rice on the side. If mbongo is hard to find, charred black cardamom with grains of paradise gives a similar smoky warmth. Chef's tip: shake the pan instead of stirring once the fish goes in, so the pieces stay whole.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GuarapoSugarcane juice

Guarapo stands, or guaraperas, pop up across Cuba wherever cane grows, crushing fresh stalks through a press and pouring the pale green juice straight over ice. It tastes grassy and gently sweet, never sugary, and it is drunk the moment it is pressed. You need a sugarcane press or juicer, or fresh peeled cane and a strong blender; bottled cane juice is a poor substitute. The common mistake is pressing the cane long before serving, because the juice darkens and starts to ferment within an hour. Chef's tip: chill the cane before pressing and add the lime as you press, which keeps the colour bright.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Galinha à portuguesa (Portuguese chicken)

Puzzlingly, you will not find this in Portugal: galinha à portuguesa belongs to Macau, where cooks mixed a Portuguese idea of a creamy baked chicken with the turmeric, curry powder and coconut milk that came through the Portuguese trading routes from Goa and Malacca. Macanese restaurants and Hong Kong's cha chaan teng serve it bubbling in a clay pot or baking dish, golden on top, with chicken and potatoes in a mild, yellow, gently sweet coconut sauce, always with white rice to soak it up. It is a favourite for family dinners and Christmas tables. The thing people get wrong is boiling the coconut sauce hard, so it splits and turns oily; keep it at a gentle simmer. Chef's tip: brown the chicken well first, and finish under a hot grill for the speckled golden top that Macau restaurants are known for.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lo mai gai (sticky rice in lotus leaf)

Unfold the dried lotus leaf at a Hong Kong yum cha table and a cloud of tea-scented steam rises from a parcel of glossy sticky rice, hiding a centre of soy-braised chicken thigh, shiitake and slices of lap cheong, the sweet Chinese pork sausage. Teahouses from Sheung Wan to Mong Kok sell it from the morning trolleys, and office workers grab one as a filling breakfast with a pot of pu'er. The rice is chewy and sticky but each grain stays whole, and the leaf gives it a faint grassy perfume. Shaoxing rice wine goes into the filling; an alcohol-free swap is given in the ingredient list. The most common mistake is cooking the rice in water like plain rice: soaked glutinous rice must be steamed, or it turns into paste. Chef's tip: wrap the parcels tightly and steam them again from cold or frozen; they reheat better than almost any dim sum.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sweet potato ginger soup

Cheap, warming and ready in under an hour, this is the tong sui Hong Kong families make at home on cold, damp winter nights, ladled out after dinner or before bed rather than ordered in a shop. Chunks of orange, yellow or purple sweet potato turn tender and fudgy in a clear amber syrup made with brown slab sugar and plenty of smashed ginger, so each spoonful is sweet first and then pleasantly hot. Some cooks add a few pitted red dates or a piece of dried tangerine peel. Boiling the sweet potatoes from the start is the usual slip; by the time the ginger has given up its heat, they've collapsed and clouded the syrup. Chef's tip: soak the cut sweet potato in cold water for 10 minutes to rinse off surface starch, and add it only once the ginger broth has simmered for a good 10 minutes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Taiwanese sesame oil chicken soup

When the first cold fronts reach Taipei, steam rises from clay pots of this at street-corner stalls, and families make it at home for new mothers and anyone run down by winter. Bone-in chicken is browned in dark, toasty black sesame oil with a mound of ginger fried until curled and crisp, then simmered in rice wine for a deeply warming, slightly bitter-sweet broth that is eaten with rice or thin wheat noodles. This soup is traditionally made with plenty of rice wine, and simmering does not cook all the alcohol off; for an alcohol-free pot, use the stock option given with the wine. A common error is heating black sesame oil on a high flame: it scorches quickly and makes the whole soup bitter. Chef's tip: fry the ginger slowly in the oil before the chicken goes in, until the slices curl at the edges and look dry; that is where the soup's warmth comes from.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

IshlekliMinced meat pie

Ishlekli is the shepherds' pie of the Karakum desert: a large round of dough filled with chopped lamb and onion, sealed, and buried in sand heated by a fire, so it bakes slowly into a thick, golden crust filled with juicy meat. Turkmen families still make it on camping trips and at holidays in the countryside around Ashgabat. This version bakes it in a hot oven on a preheated tray. A common mistake is using lean meat, which makes the filling dry; the lamb fat bastes the inside as it bakes. Chef's tip: chop the lamb by hand rather than mincing it; small chunks stay juicy and give the pie its rustic texture. The filling should reach 71 °C.

100 minTurkmenMeat
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Grzybki marynowanePickled forest mushrooms

After an autumn morning of mushroom picking in the forests of Podlasie or the Bieszczady, the smallest, firmest boletes and slippery jacks are set aside for jars of grzybki marynowane. They come out at Christmas and on name days as a zakąska, sharp and sweet with allspice and mustard seed, sliced onion and firm, slightly slippery mushrooms. Only use wild mushrooms you bought from a trusted seller or had checked by an expert; cultivated chestnut or button mushrooms work well too. A common mistake is skipping the first boil in salted water, which leaves the pickle cloudy and the mushrooms soft. Chef's tip: cook the mushrooms until they sink, then pack them while hot under boiling marinade.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mango shaved ice

Every summer, from late May to September, the dessert shops of Taipei's Yongkang Street have queues that stretch round the corner for one thing: a mountain of feathery milk ice buried under cubes of ripe Aiwen mango. The ice is frozen milk shaved so thinly it melts on the tongue like snow, and it's drenched in mango syrup and sweetened condensed milk, often with a scoop of mango sorbet on top. At home, freeze the milk base the night before; the active work then takes about 15 minutes. Shaving the block straight from the freezer is a common mistake, as it splinters into icy shards; let it soften for 5 minutes so it curls into ribbons. Chef's tip: chill the serving bowls in the freezer too, so the snow holds its height while you add the toppings.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sambal stingray

Weekend evenings at the seafood stalls of Newton, Chomp Chomp and East Coast Lagoon smell of charring banana leaf, and the dish sending up that smoke is usually sambal stingray. A fan-shaped stingray wing is spread thickly with a dark red, slow-fried sambal of chillies, shallots, candlenuts and toasted shrimp paste, laid on banana leaf and cooked over high heat until the sweet, delicate flesh pulls cleanly off the soft cartilage in strands. It comes with calamansi or lime, raw sliced shallots and a little dish of sour chinchalok, and a plate of steamed rice. Underfrying the sambal is the classic error: until the oil splits away and turns red, the paste tastes raw and harsh. If you can't find stingray, skate wing is the best substitute and cooks the same way. Chef's tip: score the thick end of the wing and push sambal into the cuts, so the flavour gets right into the flesh.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Brassói aprópecsenyeFried pork with potato cubes

Despite the name, which points to Brassó (Brașov) in Transylvania, this is a Budapest invention, and it is still one of the most ordered plates in the city's small family restaurants. Small cubes of pork neck or shoulder are fried hard with onion, lots of garlic, marjoram and a little paprika until they are browned and juicy, then tossed with golden, crunchy fried potato cubes. It is a quick, salty, garlicky dish, best with a bowl of pickles or a crisp cucumber salad and a glass of cold mineral water. The usual slip is crowding the pan, so the pork steams grey instead of browning; fry it in two batches. Chef's tip: add half the garlic at the start and the rest in the last minute, so you get both the mellow and the sharp flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Itek timDuck and salted mustard greens soup

Sour, salty and cleansing, itek tim is the soup a Nyonya kitchen in Katong or Joo Chiat puts on the table to cut through the rich curries and sambals of a Chinese New Year reunion dinner, and it is often made in a big pot that lasts for days. Jointed duck simmers slowly with salted mustard greens, tomatoes, salted sour plums and a little dried tamarind until the meat is tender and the broth turns golden, tangy and deeply savoury. It is served with rice and sambal belacan, and many families say it is even better on day two. Not soaking the salted mustard greens is the classic trap; they can make the soup far too salty, so soak and taste a piece first. Chef's tip: chill the soup overnight and lift off the duck fat in one sheet before reheating, which gives a clear, clean broth.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

AkpessiPlantain and yam pottage

Around Bouaké and Yamoussoukro, akpessi is what Baoulé families cook when they want a filling one-pot meal with little fuss: chunks of green plantain and yam simmered right in a red palm oil and tomato sauce until tender. A few pieces are crushed into the liquid at the end, so the sauce turns thick and clings to everything. It is often made with smoked fish; this version keeps it meat-free, with soft garden eggs folded through for body. Expect an earthy, gently starchy dish with heat from the pepper, good with sliced avocado on the side. The usual mistake is stirring too much, which turns the whole pot to mush instead of leaving soft chunks. Chef's tip: oil your hands before peeling green plantains; the sticky sap washes off far more easily.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Singapore prawn noodle soup

Long before lunch, the big pots at Singapore's prawn mee stalls have been bubbling with fried prawn shells and pork bones, and the regulars from Zion Road to Tiong Bahru arrive with one question: soup or dry? This is the soup version, which is different from the stir-fried Hokkien prawn mee: a sweet, briny, rust-coloured broth poured over yellow noodles and rice vermicelli, topped with halved prawns, tender pork ribs, kangkong and bean sprouts, finished with fried shallots and a dusting of chilli powder. A dish of sliced red chilli in soy sauce sits alongside. The most common mistake is boiling the shells without frying them first, which gives a pale, thin broth; the depth comes from shells toasted in oil until they are deep red and smell like the sea. Chef's tip: freeze prawn shells and heads from other meals over a few weeks so you have a big bag ready for the stock.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Vegetarian mee rebus

Malay hawker stalls at Geylang Serai and the old Adam Road food centre ladle mee rebus from a vat of thick, reddish-brown gravy that is sweet, gently spiced and earthy, poured over springy yellow noodles and heaped with halved boiled egg, fried tau kwa, bean sprouts, green chilli and a squeeze of calamansi. It is eaten any time, but especially on Hari Raya mornings and as a filling lunch. Many stalls build the gravy on dried shrimp and beef stock; this vegetarian version gets its body from mashed sweet potato, its savoury depth from fermented soybean paste (taucheo) and a well-fried spice paste, and uses vegetable stock. The usual mistake is under-frying the rempah, which leaves the gravy tasting raw and sharp; cook it until the oil separates and turns red. Chef's tip: the gravy thickens as it stands, so keep a kettle of hot stock nearby and loosen it to a pourable, velvety consistency just before serving.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Minchi (Macanese minced meat with potatoes)

If one dish says home to Macanese families, the descendants of Portuguese and Chinese Macau, it is minchi: a quick hash of minced beef and pork seasoned with soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce and a touch of sugar, mixed with crisp little cubes of fried potato and crowned with a runny fried egg. It appears on weeknight tables, at Macanese restaurants near Rua do Cunha, and at gatherings of the Macanese community abroad, always with plain white rice. Savoury, slightly sweet and full of crunch, it tastes like the meeting of a Portuguese kitchen and a Cantonese wok. A common error is stirring the potatoes into the meat too early, which makes them soft and floury; fry them separately until crisp and fold them in at the end. Chef's tip: let the mince sit undisturbed for a minute in the hot pan before stirring, so it browns instead of stewing.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Sauce djoumgbléDried okra sauce with smoked fish

Baoulé cooks in central Côte d'Ivoire dry okra in the sun during the harvest, then grind it into the dark green powder that makes sauce djoumgblé. Stirred into a beef and tomato stew with flaked smoked fish, it thickens the pot into a deep brown, slippery sauce with an earthy, smoky flavour quite different from fresh okra soup. It is the classic partner for foutou banane or placali in Bouaké and in Abidjan's maquis, where each mouthful of starch is pulled through the sauce. Look for the powder as dried or ground okra in African grocers. Chef's tip: whisk the okra powder into cold water before it goes into the pot; scattered straight into hot sauce, it forms lumps that never break down.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Taiwanese sweet potato congee

Tainan's late-night congee shops lay out dozens of little dishes under glass, and the bowl that goes with them is this loose, gently sweet rice porridge dotted with soft orange sweet potato. Older Taiwanese remember it as the food of lean years, when sweet potato stretched the rice; today it is comfort food at breakfast, at midnight after the markets, and whenever someone is unwell. Unlike Cantonese congee, the grains stay distinct in a cloudy, silky liquid. Many cooks cut the sweet potato too small, so it collapses into mush and turns the pot muddy; chunks of about 3 cm keep their shape. Chef's tip: serve it with something salty and crunchy, such as pickled cucumbers, peanuts or a radish omelette, because the contrast is the whole point.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Soy sauce chicken

Glossy, chestnut-brown and hung by the neck in siu mei shop windows across Hong Kong, see yau gai is the gentle cousin of roast meats: a whole chicken poached in a fragrant master stock of light and dark soy, rock sugar, star anise, cinnamon and ginger until the skin is lacquered and the meat silky and sweet-savoury. It is chopped onto plates of rice with a ladle of the sauce for a quick lunch, or served at home with blanched greens. Shaoxing rice wine goes into the stock, with an alcohol-free option in the list. Traditional cooks pull the bird while it is still pink at the bone; this recipe does not, and the chicken is cooked to 74 °C in the thickest part of the thigh. The main pitfall is a rolling boil, which tears the skin and toughens the breast; keep the stock barely trembling. Chef's tip: strain and freeze the stock, and it gets deeper every time you reuse it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Ful nabitSprouted fava bean soup

Sprouted beans are ladled out with their cooking liquor in Cairo homes when the weather turns cold or someone is feeling run down, and Egyptians swear by the broth as a pick-me-up. The beans are soaked and left to sprout for a few days, then simmered with onion, garlic and cumin into a light, earthy soup that is sharpened at the table with plenty of lemon. You can eat the beans with a spoon or pop them from their skins. Allow 3 to 4 days for sprouting, although the hands-on work is only about 20 minutes. People with G6PD deficiency (favism) must not eat fava beans. Chef's tip: stop the sprouting when the shoots are about 1 cm long; longer sprouts taste grassy and bitter.

by KrazyBadal 2 views

Groninger mosterdsoepMustard and leek soup

Groningen in the far north of the Netherlands has been making mustard since the Middle Ages, and its creamy mustard soup is served in every café in the city: a velvety roux soup with leek, stock and cream, sharpened with a generous amount of coarse Groninger mustard. Most cafés top it with crisp bacon bits; this vegetarian version uses toasted croutons and chives. A common mistake is boiling the soup after the mustard goes in, which makes it bitter and grainy. Chef's tip: whisk the mustard in off the heat at the end, so it keeps its tang.

30 minDutchSoups
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bajan pumpkin fritters

Barbadian grandmothers turn leftover boiled pumpkin into these little fritters for Sunday tea, frying spoonfuls of a soft, spiced batter until puffed and golden, then rolling them in sugar while still hot. Inside they are tender and custardy, with cinnamon, nutmeg and a hint of vanilla. They're best eaten warm, straight from the paper towel. The common mistake is a watery batter from wet pumpkin, which makes flat, greasy fritters: drain the cooked pumpkin well. Chef's tip: use the dense, orange West Indian pumpkin or butternut squash; watery jack-o'-lantern pumpkins don't work well.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

KhajurFried dough cookies

Khajur take their name from dates, which their plump oval shape resembles, but there is no fruit in them: they are little cardamom-scented dough cookies, pressed onto a sieve or the back of a grater for a ridged pattern and fried until deep gold. Afghan families fry great batches before Eid and Nowruz and pack them into tins to offer guests with tea, and Kabul bakeries sell them by the kilo. They are crunchy on the outside with a soft, cakey middle and only gently sweet. Oil that is too hot is the classic error, browning them in a minute while the centres stay raw and doughy; keep it moderate and patient. Chef's tip: fry one test khajur first and break it open, then adjust the heat before frying the rest.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese tomato salad

Come the cool season, when tomatoes are at their sweetest in Mandalay and the dry towns of Upper Burma, this thoke (a salad 'mixed by hand') is the quick dish that appears beside rice and curry at almost every meal. Slices of ripe tomato and onion are squeezed together with toasted chickpea flour, crushed peanuts and fried shallots in their oil, so the juices and flour turn into a light, nutty dressing that clings to every piece. Lime and fresh chilli sharpen it, and coriander lifts it. Home cooks often add fish sauce; this vegetarian version uses salt and a pinch of sugar. Dressing it too early is the most common mistake: salt pulls water from the tomatoes and leaves a soupy plate. Chef's tip: mix with your fingertips just before serving, pressing lightly so some tomato juice blends into the flour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Agbeli kakloCassava fritters

Roadside fryers in the Volta Region sell agbeli kaklo by the bagful, golden fingers of grated cassava seasoned with onion and chilli and fried until crunchy outside and chewy within. The classic way to eat them is with chunks of fresh coconut, whose cool sweetness balances the salty, peppery fritters, and they are an afternoon snack or a travel snack on the road from Ho to Accra. Cassava must be cooked through, so fry until deep golden. Chef's tip: squeeze the grated cassava very dry and fry at 170 °C; wet dough spits dangerously, and oil that is too cool, the common mistake, gives greasy, soggy fritters.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Burmese pumpkin curry

On a weekday lunch table in a Yangon home, this soft orange curry usually sits beside a sour leaf soup, a plate of boiled greens and a mound of plain rice. Wedges of pumpkin are cooked slowly in a pounded paste of onion, garlic and ginger with turmeric and chilli, until the flesh turns tender and glossy and the oil rises to the top, the sign of a well-made Burmese hin. It tastes sweet, gently hot and savoury all at once; many households stir in dried shrimp, but this version keeps it plant-based with a little salt and sugar. Where cooks go wrong is stirring the pot every few minutes: the pumpkin breaks into mash, so shake the pan instead. Chef's tip: leave the skin on a firm, dense pumpkin such as kabocha; it holds the pieces together and softens enough to eat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bahamian conch salad

At the Fish Fry on Arawak Cay in Nassau, conch salad is made to order: a vendor cracks the shell, dices the conch with tomato, onion, sweet peppers and goat pepper, and drowns it in lime and sour orange in front of you. Traditionally the conch is eaten raw, "cooked" only by the citrus; that raw version is not for pregnant women, young children or anyone with a weakened immune system, and this recipe gives a safer version in which the conch is poached briefly first. Buy cleaned conch from a trusted fishmonger and discard any that smells of ammonia. The common mistake is dicing unevenly; everything should be in small, matching cubes. Chef's tip: make it no more than an hour ahead, or the lime turns the vegetables limp.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GowurmaSlow-fried preserved lamb

Gowurma is how Turkmen herders kept meat through the winter: lamb or mutton cut into pieces, salted and cooked slowly in its own rendered fat until tender and golden, then packed into clay pots under a layer of fat. Spoonfuls are reheated through the winter to fry with eggs, stir into rice or eat with bread and tea. Today it is kept in the fridge. A common mistake is cooking over high heat, which fries the outside hard before the inside softens. Chef's tip: make sure every piece is fully covered by fat in the jar; that seal is what keeps it. Store in the fridge and use within 2 weeks; always reheat until piping hot.

140 minTurkmenMeatGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican Easter bunSpiced Easter loaf

Every Good Friday, Jamaicans from Kingston to London buy or bake a dark, glossy spiced bun to slice and eat with processed cheese, a tradition that grew out of the British hot cross bun. This quick-bread version is moist and dense with dried fruit, molasses and warm spice; it traditionally uses stout, which contains alcohol, so for an alcohol-free bun use the same amount of malt drink. The commonest mistake is slicing the bun warm, when it is still sticky and crumbles; it needs a day to firm and mellow. Chef's tip: brush the hot loaf with a honey or sugar syrup glaze straight from the oven for the shiny top.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bajan salt bread

Every rum shop and fish fry in Barbados sells "bread and two", and the bread is almost always salt bread: plain, crusty rolls with a soft, slightly chewy crumb and a split down the top, made for stuffing with fish cakes, a slice of cheese or fried flying fish as a cutter. Despite the name, they aren't especially salty; the name sets them apart from sweet bread. The usual mistake is pale rolls with a soft crust from too cool an oven. Chef's tip: put a tray of boiling water in the bottom of the oven for the first 10 minutes for a properly crisp crust.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Grenadian nutmeg ice cream

Grenada, the Spice Isle, grows much of the world's nutmeg, and in St George's ice cream parlours the local favourite is a rich egg-custard ice cream scented with freshly grated nutmeg. The flavour is warm and almost floral, nothing like the dusty jar spice, and it is lovely with fried plantain or a slice of black cake. The common mistake is overheating the custard so the eggs scramble; take it off the heat as soon as it coats a spoon. Chef's tip: grate the nutmeg straight into the hot milk and let it steep for 20 minutes before making the custard, so the flavour runs all the way through.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Taiwanese radish omelette

Ask a Taiwanese grandmother what to cook when there's nothing in the fridge and the answer is often this: a few eggs and a handful of preserved radish turned into a thick, golden omelette, cut into wedges and passed round. It's a staple of the rice-and-small-dishes spread at Taipei breakfast shops and late-night congee counters, and it reappears on the stir-fry restaurant table and in home lunchboxes. The chopped radish fries up crunchy and caramel-sweet inside soft, puffy egg, with crisp brown lacy edges. Skipping the rinse is where most go wrong: unrinsed radish makes the omelette far too salty. Chef's tip: dry-fry the radish first until it smells toasty, then use plenty of oil and a hot pan so the egg puffs and the edges frill.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican hard dough breadDense sweet sandwich loaf

Chinese-Jamaican bakers gave the island hard dough bread, and today a sliced "hardo" loaf is in every shop from Montego Bay to Morant Bay, toasted with butter for breakfast, wrapped around fried fish or dipped in soup. The crumb is close, smooth and faintly sweet, firm enough to hold its own against ackee or bun and cheese. The usual mistake is making the dough too soft; it should be stiff and need hard kneading, which is where the name comes from. Allow around 2 hours for rising on top of the working time. Chef's tip: roll the dough into a tight Swiss roll before it goes into the tin, which gives the even, layered crumb that peels off in sheets.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bermuda fish chowder

Bermudians call fish chowder their national dish, and every Sunday brunch and Cup Match picnic has a pot of it: a dark, thick soup made from a long-simmered fish-head stock with tomatoes, vegetables and white fish, seasoned at the table with a splash of black rum and sherry peppers sauce (hot peppers steeped in sherry). This recipe contains alcohol in those optional table seasonings; for an alcohol-free bowl, use a few drops of hot pepper sauce and a little molasses instead. The mistake to avoid is a thin, watery stock; the bones must simmer long enough to give body. Ask your fishmonger for heads and frames from white fish, gills removed. Chef's tip: let the finished chowder rest for 30 minutes before serving; it thickens and the flavours deepen.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican pan chickenOil-drum jerk chicken

After dark on Red Hills Road in Kingston, smoke rises from rows of oil-drum barbecues where vendors grill pan chicken, a peppery jerk-style chicken served wrapped in foil with a slice of hard dough bread and a squeeze of ketchup-based pepper sauce. It is less smoky and sharper than Portland jerk, with plenty of black pepper, scallion and pimento. The common mistake is cooking over flaming coals, which burns the outside before the inside is safe; grill over steady medium heat with the lid down. The chicken is done when the thickest part reaches 74 °C and the juices run clear. Chef's tip: marinate overnight in the fridge and cook the pieces skin-side up first so the fat bastes the meat.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

BandungRose syrup milk drink

Pink as a sweet in a glass, bandung turns up at almost every Malay drinks stall in Singapore, sipped through a straw at Geylang Serai, at kampung-style weddings and through the evenings of Ramadan when stalls sell it in tied plastic bags at the bazaars. Rose syrup is stirred into water and evaporated milk, then poured over plenty of ice, giving a drink that is floral, sweet and creamy without being heavy. It pairs well with spicy food such as mee rebus, satay or nasi lemak, cooling the chilli. The usual mistake is adding the evaporated milk to hot syrup, which can make it look curdled and dull; let the syrup cool, and mix with cold milk. Chef's tip: make the syrup in advance and keep it in the fridge for up to two weeks, so a glass takes a minute; a few drops of rose water at the end lift the scent if your syrup is mild.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

CaricolesWhelks in celery broth

Caricoles are the whelks sold hot in paper cups from street carts in Brussels, at the Marolles flea market, the Place Sainte-Catherine and the Christmas market: the sea snails are simmered for an hour in a peppery broth with celery, onion, thyme, bay and a lot of black pepper and chilli, and you pick them out with a toothpick and drink the broth. Buy whelks live or freshly cooked from a fishmonger. Live whelks should be tightly closed inside their shells or retract when touched; throw away any that smell bad or have broken shells, and any that stay open and limp after cooking. A common mistake is skipping the purge, which leaves them gritty. Chef's tip: soak live whelks in salted cold water for an hour and rinse them several times, then start them in cold broth so they don't toughen.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

GozinakiWalnut and honey diamonds

Gozinaki is the sweet every Georgian family makes for New Year's Eve, from Tbilisi flats to Kakhetian farmhouses: toasted walnuts stirred into honey boiled until thick, spread on a wet board and cut into diamonds that set glossy and crunchy. Children help shell the walnuts in December, and a plate of gozinaki sits on the table for the midnight toasts. A common mistake is taking the honey off too early; it stays sticky and the pieces never set. Chef's tip: cook the honey until a drop in cold water forms a firm, pliable ball, then work fast, because the mixture sets as it cools.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trini curry shrimp

Sold from food stalls in San Fernando and eaten at south Trinidad family lunches, curry shrimp is the fast curry of the island: the sauce is built in minutes, and the shrimp go in only at the very end. Plenty of garlic, roasted geera and hot pepper give a bright, punchy curry that you wipe up with dhalpuri or spoon over rice. The mistake nearly everyone makes the first time is stewing the shrimp, which turns them rubbery; they need three or four minutes, no more. Chef's tip: save the shells, simmer them in the water for 10 minutes and use that stock in the curry for a much deeper seafood flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican Saturday soupBeef soup with pumpkin and dumplings

Saturday is soup day in Jamaica: the week's cleaning and market shopping get done while a big pot of beef soup bubbles on the stove, and by afternoon the whole yard is called in for a bowl. Beef shin and bones simmer with pumpkin until it melts and thickens the broth, then yam, chocho (christophene), carrot and cornmeal dumplings and thin "spinners" go in, with a whole scotch bonnet for perfume. The usual mistake is adding all the ground provisions at the start, so they collapse into mush; they go in during the last 40 minutes. Chef's tip: leave the scotch bonnet whole and lift it out before serving; you get the fruity aroma without the burn.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Trini curry duck

Curry duck is the dish of the riverside lime in south and central Trinidad, cooked in a big iron pot over a wood fire while friends cool off in the water. The duck is chopped small, marinated in green seasoning, then "burnt" into a curry paste fried until almost black, which gives the sauce its dark colour and deep, slightly bitter edge. It's served with rice, dhal and sada or paratha roti. A common mistake is serving it before the duck has fully broken down: duck is chewy and needs long, slow cooking. Chef's tip: spoon off the yellow duck fat that rises during cooking and keep it for roasting potatoes.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Aloo andayPotato and egg curry

Ask almost anyone who grew up in a Punjabi household in Pakistan what was cooked at the end of the month, when the meat money had run out, and aloo anday will come up with real affection. Halved hard-boiled eggs and chunks of potato sit in a loose, brick-red shorba of browned onion and tomato, thin enough to soak into a chapati and rice alike, with a cut green chilli on top. It is a weeknight and Sunday-brunch dish rather than a guest dish, and children tend to love it. Where it goes wrong is in the masala: if the onions and tomatoes are not fried until the oil separates, the gravy tastes raw and watery however long it simmers. Chef's tip: score the peeled eggs lightly with a knife and fry them in the masala for a minute before the water goes in, so they take on colour and flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Lao bamboo shoot soup

When the rains arrive in June, Vientiane's morning markets fill with pale, freshly dug bamboo shoots, and pots of kaeng nor mai start simmering in kitchens across the city for the family lunch. The broth is a deep olive green, tinted by the juice squeezed from yanang leaves, and thickened with a spoonful of pounded soaked sticky rice so it coats the spoon. Earthy bamboo, sweet pumpkin and slippery mushrooms float in it with lemon basil on top, and a basket of sticky rice and a dish of jeow sit alongside. Skipping the pre-boil of the bamboo is where most cooks go wrong: raw shoots taste bitter and need cooking through to be safe, so always blanch fresh ones and drain. This version leaves out the fermented fish of village kitchens and seasons with salt and tamari. Chef's tip: squeeze the yanang leaves in cold water, never hot, or the broth turns brown and loses its grassy freshness.

60 minLaoSoupsVeganGluten free
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican conch soup

From Montego Bay's craft market cookshops to roadside pots around Falmouth, conch soup is sold by the cup on Fridays and Saturdays: tender pieces of conch in a thick, peppery broth with potatoes, pumpkin, carrot and chewy flour spinners. Conch is famously tough, so it is pounded and simmered slowly before the vegetables go in. Buy cleaned frozen conch meat from a fishmonger; thaw it in the fridge and throw away any that smells off. The most common mistake is not tenderising the conch, leaving rubbery chunks; pound it well and simmer until a knife slides in. Chef's tip: a little lime rubbed into the conch before pounding removes its slippery film and freshens the flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican jerk pork

Boston Bay in Portland is where jerk pork was born, and the jerk pits there still slow-smoke pork shoulder over green pimento wood under sheets of zinc until the outside is dark and crusted and the meat is smoky and juicy. This home version uses boneless pork shoulder rubbed with a wet paste of scotch bonnet, pimento, scallion, thyme and ginger, then cooked slowly in a covered barbecue or oven and finished over high heat. The biggest mistake is rushing the marinade; it needs at least 12 hours in the fridge to get into the pork. Cook until the thickest part reaches at least 63 °C, then rest; for tender, chopped jerk like the stalls, keep going to about 85 °C. Chef's tip: throw a handful of soaked allspice berries and bay leaves onto the coals for the smoky pimento flavour of the real pits.

240 minJamaicanMeatGluten freeSpicy
by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican cornmeal pudding

Jamaican cornmeal pudding is the cousin of sweet potato pudding, cheaper and quicker to make, and a fixture at Sunday dinner and church harvest suppers from Kingston to the hills of Manchester. Cornmeal is first cooked on the stove in coconut milk with sugar and nutmeg, then baked until firm, sliceable and caramel-edged, with a thin, soft layer on top. The classic mistake is pouring raw cornmeal straight into hot liquid, which makes lumps; whisk it into cold liquid first. Chef's tip: pour a little extra coconut milk over halfway through baking to get that custardy "hallelujah" top.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Jamaican hominy corn porridge

Hominy porridge is a weekend job in Jamaican homes from Spanish Town to Mandeville: the dried, hulled corn kernels need soaking overnight and a long, slow simmer before they burst open, tender and chewy, in a creamy coconut and spice base. The finished porridge is thick and comforting, sweetened with condensed milk and perfumed with cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla, and it reheats beautifully through the week. The mistake many people make is adding the coconut and milk at the start, where they catch and burn during the long cook; boil the corn in water first. Look for dried white hominy at Caribbean or Latin shops, and remember the overnight soak. Chef's tip: stir in a spoonful of cornmeal or flour mixed with water at the end if you like it thicker, as many Jamaican cooks do.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Cascos de guayaba con quesoGuava shells with white cheese

On Cuban tables from Havana to Pinar del Río, the most loved dessert is also one of the simplest: guava halves, scooped of their seeds and simmered in syrup until glossy and tender, served beside a slab of salty white cheese. The sweet, perfumed fruit and the sharp cheese balance each other perfectly. Cooks often overcook the shells until they fall apart; they should still hold their cup shape. Queso blanco and cream cheese are usually made with animal rennet or microbial enzymes depending on the maker, so check the label and choose a vegetarian one if needed. Chef's tip: simmer the scooped-out seeds and pulp in a little water, sieve them and add that purée to the syrup, which gives it a deep pink colour and real guava flavour.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Tamina (roasted semolina with honey)

Word of a birth in an Algiers household brings a steady flow of visitors, and each is offered a small dish of tamina with coffee: semolina roasted in a dry pan until it smells like toasted hazelnuts, then bound with melted butter and honey and dusted with cinnamon. It is soft, crumbly and sweet, a little like a spoonable halva, and is said to give strength to the new mother. Tamina is also made for Mawlid and served with tea, with the cinnamon often sifted over in a lattice pattern. Chef's tip: toast the semolina slowly over a medium-low heat and stir without stopping; burnt dark specks make the whole batch bitter and cannot be picked out.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Seared gored goredSeared beef cubes in spiced butter

Gored gored is a celebration dish in Addis Ababa, ordered at butcher-restaurants and served at weddings and holiday gatherings, where cubes of the best beef are dressed with melted niter kibbeh, awaze and mitmita and eaten with injera. Traditionally the meat is served raw. Raw beef is not for pregnant women, young children or anyone with a weakened immune system, so this version sears the cubes over a fierce heat until well browned on every side and cooked to at least 63 °C in the centre, then rests them; take them to 71 °C if you prefer them fully cooked. The result is tender and juicy, rich with spiced butter and fiery from the awaze. Chef's tip: dry the cubes thoroughly with kitchen paper and sear them in two batches; a crowded pan steams the meat grey instead of browning it.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Grandfathers in maple syrupDumplings in maple syrup

Grands-pères are the dessert of the Quebec sugar shack in March and April, when sap is running and the cabane à sucre serves long breakfasts. Soft scone-like dumplings are dropped into simmering maple syrup and cooked under a lid until they puff up and soak in the syrup from below. In Beauce and the Eastern Townships families make them at home with the first syrup of the year. Serve warm in bowls with cold cream poured over. A common mistake is letting the syrup boil hard, which scorches it and makes it bitter. Chef's tip: keep the lid on for the full cooking time; lifting it lets the steam out and the dumplings sink and turn heavy.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Casse-croûte tunisienTuna baguette sandwich

From train-station kiosks in Tunis to beach stalls at Hammamet, the casse-croûte is the sandwich everyone grabs: a baguette slit open, painted with harissa and packed with tuna, mechouia (a grilled pepper and tomato salad), boiled egg, diced potato, olives and a few capers. It is messy, spicy and filling, with smoky peppers against the rich tuna and the soft, starchy potato. This version makes a quick pan-charred mechouia while the eggs and potatoes cook. Chef's tip: let the potatoes and eggs cool before they go in; adding them hot steams the bread and turns it soggy, a common mistake at home.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Mbesses (Kabyle semolina cake)

Somewhere between shortbread and cornbread, mbesses is the plain cake of Kabyle kitchens, a shallow tray of semolina rich with melted butter, lightly sweetened and baked until golden on top. The texture is sandy and tender, breaking into crumbs that taste of toasted grain and butter, with a hint of orange blossom. It is cut into diamonds and served with milky coffee in the afternoon, or offered to guests who drop by during Ramadan evenings. Some households scatter sesame or nigella seeds over the top before baking. Chef's tip: spread the mixture into the tray with a light hand; pressing it down hard is the most common mistake and gives a dense, heavy cake.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Bradj (date-filled semolina diamonds)

When the first warm days arrive, families in Constantine and across eastern Algeria mark the spring festival with picnics, boiled eggs and plates of bradj: diamonds of buttery semolina sandwiching a layer of spiced date paste, cooked slowly on a griddle rather than baked. The outside turns golden and crumbly, the date layer stays soft and sticky, and orange-blossom water perfumes the whole thing. Bradj is served warm with a drizzle of honey or a cold glass of buttermilk, and is just as good the next day with coffee. Chef's tip: press the dough together rather than kneading it; worked like bread dough, semolina turns tough, and bradj should break with a crumble.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Gola gandaShaved ice with syrups

Nothing says summer evening at Clifton beach or Burns Road quite like the clatter of a gola ganda cart, where a block of ice is shaved on a hand plane, packed round a stick into a fist-sized ball and doused in rose-pink, mango-orange and purple kala khatta syrups. It melts fast in the Karachi heat, so children lick it from the bottom as it drips, and the fancier stalls serve it in a plate with condensed milk, desiccated coconut and a pinch of chaat-style salt on the sour syrup. At home a hand ice shaver or a powerful blender makes snow fine enough to press into balls. The most common disappointment is ice crushed too coarsely, which will not hold together and lets the syrup run straight through. Chef's tip: freeze the ice from boiled and cooled drinking water in a shallow tray, and put the glasses or plates in the freezer too, so the gola keeps its shape for longer.

by KrazyBadal 0 views

Showing 90 of 8,120 recipes

Page 300 of 903